One of the joys of my job is that I get to be around kids every now and again, kids of all ages. I don't have any kids of my own and didn't want any 'cuz I figured the world was doing a good enough job of populatin' and also because I had 'been there, done that' lifetimes ago and this time around I was going to place my focus elsewhere, which I did.
This has made me ageless in a way (something I wrote about once before) because I don't have a measuring stick like (God forbid!) my son is this old and my two daughters are this old (which I hear adults my age say a lot). I say 'God forbid' in the sense that "God forbid I should have three kids 'cuz I can't imagine it!" because whoa- isn’t raising kids a hellacious, daunting, fearsome, and most times (crazier still) voluntary taking on of work? But you oughta see what I see every day.
There are plenty of volunteers for raising babies! They populate the airport in much higher concentrations than anywhere else (save schoolyards) so if you have any doubts that the number of people willing to have kids is less, that can be a real eye opener.
Anyway, since I didn't have kids of my own I haven't really been around them much for decades. But in my present job, there they are- newborns, toddlers, precocious three to five year olds, regular kids from six on up to about twelve, awkward early teens, and then older pre-adult teens with that attitude of disdain that they tend to have.
I see a lot of kids and I see a lot of parents and I can tell what kind of people the parents are by the way their kids act. It's a joy to me to see well-adjusted, happy kids but it hurts some to see kids who are withdrawn and guarded because that tells me that they haven't been treated very well. I do what I can to make those ones' day better but I can't help 'em anymore than that.
My fav kids are the three-to-five year olds. Lord Jesus they are amazing. Their parents might not always think so, they look kind of tired, bored, and weary sometimes. "Enough with the cuteness already!" the parents are thinking, 'cuz they have to deal with the little darlings when they're not being adorable and are being 'difficult', but damn do those little guys brighten up the mood nearly every time they're around.
For example: If I get a group of just adults together they can vary between being clipped and hardly talkative to each other to positively buzzing (which is rare) but the kind of stuff they talk about is adult stuff because you know they have to represent.
But get just one of those three-to-five year old angels onboard and little sparkles, I swear, fill the air. They approach whatever they're experiencing with a sense of absolute wonder as if they are experiencing it for the very first time, which they probably are, and all of a sudden the world is a magical place. Many adults have totally forgotten how to see things like that but I never really did so I can relate to kids. We're kin, though we aren't. We're kin in that we share a secret which enables us to laugh and play at the drop of a hat because we know the world really isn’t a serious place. Sure, there are grown up things that have to be done and super important rules about physical safety and survival that have to be followed but a lot of that 'other' grown up stuff is meant to dampen, control, subdue, and condition people. Fortunately with the little ones none of that 'other' stuff has taken yet. They're still free, wild, enthusiastic, trusting, open, and naturally kind, like the adults used to be, until they learned how not to be, or hid those parts of themselves away.
Now understand, I wouldn't want to be around kids all the time. I just like to take 'em in small doses because yeah, I gotta admit it, I'm not really into that much frivolity and silliness. I like being an adult. But if I ever get lost in adulthood, or have become jaded from dealing with dour, businesslike adults at work, kids serve as instant reminders of just how lost I've become.
The best possible antidote for lostness is me doing my job, a three-to-five year old kid, that kid's parents, and a grandparent. Let the young parents take care of business, which they, with firm parental resolve and grim determination, adamantly insist on doing themselves. Mom will muscle with her personal stuff and the multiple bags that Moms always lug around, while Dad tries to figure out where to grab the damn carseat while he’s at the same time struggling with two big, heavy suitcases.
That gives the rest of us a little time to play!